“…You want to protect him?”
Helena’s voice slipped out like a sigh.
“That’s right. I want to protect him.”
“Not because you like him, not because you love him—but because you want to protect him?”
She eventually turned her head away. It didn’t sound like she was dismissing my words as a lie—just that they didn’t carry the weight she had expected.
But it didn’t matter. Because it was true.
I did want to protect him.
“Don’t jump. I won’t come after you if you do.”
From the moment he said those words to me.
Or maybe even earlier—
“If a man ever tries to strike you again, don’t just close your eyes. Dodge with everything you’ve got and file a formal complaint.”
From that moment… I wanted to protect him.
Not his physical body, strong and towering—twice my size—but the virtue he held inside. His righteous core.
There’s no need for people like him to sink into the murky undercurrents of the cultivation world. Let those of us already tainted by the shadows do the struggling.
And perhaps… Mother could feel the truth of that wish. Maybe that’s why—
“You clearly don’t understand, do you? Even those who are madly in love can barely hold a marriage together. That’s reality! And you think ‘wanting to protect him’ is enough? How do you expect to form a proper cultivation bond with just that?!”
She wouldn’t have gotten this angry otherwise.
I stared quietly at her quivering eyebrows.
“And what exactly do you think you’re protecting? Erik d’Arléans is twice your size! You always hated tall and powerful cultivators! You said your ideal dao companion was someone gentle, like a flower deer!”
The trembling in her brows reached her voice, then spread to her lips, which now shook visibly.
I could no longer keep still.
“You don’t even know what real love or a proper cultivation bond looks like!”
“…What?”
Her face hardened. Her lips twitched like she was about to speak again.
But Helena—my mother—said nothing.
Even she couldn’t speak after hearing that.
And yes, I knew it was cruel. Too cruel. But I said it anyway.
Because if I hesitated now, I’d lose the momentum.
“You’ve never properly loved someone. Never cultivated a bond through sincerity or lived in harmony with anyone!”
I looked straight into her eyes the moment I said it.
Eyes like someone lost. Like someone betrayed by the one they trusted most.
That look terrified me.
So I clenched my fists tighter.
“If you never showed me how, how was I supposed to know? I’ve never seen what real love looks like. What a real family looks like. How am I supposed to know?”
“That’s…”
Helena stammered, her face clouded with panic.
And I knew—I
knew
the words that would silence her completely.
I was afraid to say them. Afraid that once they left my mouth, they’d take root in my soul and whisper back to me—
“Is this truly what you believe?”
But even so… I said them.
“I don’t want to live like you.”
And then, I watched.
Watched her spirit sink, like a stone cast into deep water.
With wide, stunned eyes, she took a step back from me.
And within me, emotions collided—sorrow, pity… and release.
Yes. Deep down, I had always thought that.
I don’t want to live like her.
Even though I love her, I’m not her. I am someone else, with a different soul, different longings, a different fate.
And I don’t want to follow her path.
“It doesn’t matter if he has hidden intentions… or if I have my own. Either way, I’m going to protect him. That’s what we’ll do. I still don’t know what love is, or what it means to truly like someone…”
I felt tears fall, warm and sudden.
“…But I’ll start from there.”
When my mother saw me crying, she spoke quickly, almost frantically.
“He’s a noble… not just that—he’s the son of a Duke… They won’t even see us as human. He’s just caught up in his emotions right now…”
She stopped mid-sentence, breath hitching, then paused to calm herself before speaking again.
“Eric Orléans? You think Eric Orléans
likes
you? That he’ll protect you even in a ridiculous mess like this?”
Eric Orléans…
I hesitated.
The truth was—I didn’t know what was in his heart.
Seeing my hesitation, my mother pounced, as if proving her point.
“See? All men are the same. They say things they can’t even be held accountable for…”
No—if I left things like this, she’d never give up trying to pull me away. I knew Helena. She was that kind of person.
“The pearl hairpin…”
“…What?”
I wiped the tears from my cheek and looked her directly in the eyes.
There was no turning back.
She underestimated the Duke. And I was sure he held more than one piece of leverage over her.
“You dropped it, didn’t you? I’ve always wanted to ask… for the past ten years…”
“What are you…?”
“Was it you who set the fire?”
Helena’s face went pale. I pressed on.
“Was it you?”
Mother…
Did you…
Was it
you
who killed Viorod?
While I hesitated, unable to finish the question, Helena let out a short, sharp laugh and suddenly grabbed my shoulders with force.
“You want to ask if I killed him, right? You’ve always wanted to ask. Whether I set the fire… whether I did something to keep Viorod from escaping…”
“…”
I couldn’t say a word under the pressure of her outburst.
Her grip on my shoulders was tight enough to ache.
Then, slowly… she let go.
Helena stepped back, running her fingers through her silky red hair, and said bitterly:
“So that’s what this is. You regret following me back then?”
“That’s not…”
It wasn’t that. I never once regretted it.
But the words stuck in my throat.
“…I killed your father.”
“…!”
She really…
She really said it.
My eyes flew wide, but Helena just looked at ease—as if she’d finally unburdened herself.
“There, now you really regret it, don’t you? All that time you spent treating a murderer like family. Now you can hate me. But even so…”
She gave me a faint smile, and her crimson hair fluttered gently in the breeze.
“Don’t ruin your life just because you resent me. Open your eyes, Emelline. Look closely at what kind of man Eric truly is.”
Helena turned her back.
I watched as my mother’s silhouette faded into the night, then slowly sank to the ground like a crumbling ruin.
Time—ancient, heavy time—collapsed within me.
“What are you doing?! Get out! Go save Philip! I’ll finish things here and follow after!”
That voice echoed in my ears.
Just like how Mother always knew when I was lying, I had sensed it too.
Her claim—that she had ended Father’s life—was a lie. She never
finished
anything.
Which meant…
“It was me.”
Because I… I struck down Violrod. I was the one who kept him from escaping the flames.
I… truly… killed my father.
“Damn it…”
I slumped onto the dirt floor, my knees hitting the ground hard.
So much for walking the righteous path.
I had long since fallen from grace.
“I’m the one who killed Violrod…”
✵
✵
✵
After leaving the inner courtyard of the Princess’s palace, Helena made her way swiftly toward the rear servant passage.
Up ahead, she heard voices from some retainers.
“So the western tower door was really blown apart, huh?”
“Guess married life’s treating them well.”
“But still… why did Her Highness even allow Young Lord Erik’s marriage? I thought she had feelings for…”
Helena was just about to think
I should avoid this
, when she was suddenly pulled into a shadowed corner by someone.
As she held her breath, trying to make out the face of the person who grabbed her, the servants unknowingly passed her by, climbing the stairs.
Only after their footsteps had completely vanished did Helena shove her captor away.
Erik d’Arléans.
Of all people, it had to be
him
.
“You were eavesdropping, weren’t you?”
Helena’s voice was sharp and accusing. Erik took a step back, guilt plain in his expression.
“…Forgive me.”
Her face twisted in irritation.
She’d thrown the accusation as a jab, yet he’d instantly grasped what she meant.
So that unsettling sensation back in the garden
had
been him.
Which meant Erik had overheard everything. That Helena had tried to threaten him… that she demanded money.
And now he was apologizing?
Now
, of all times?
Helena’s eyes blazed as she glared at him.
“If you heard everything, then hand over the money. For us, it’s the cost of our lives. But to you and your clan, it’s practically pocket change.”
Erik looked quietly into Helena’s glowing brown eyes, which reflected even in the darkness.
So similar.
Not just in color—but in the emotions they carried.
Even their approach to problems: when things went wrong, they reached for threats first.
“Frankly, we don’t care if your father faces punishment or not. That’s a mess for your clan to handle. Got it? I’m just trying to get my daughter away from this cursed family.”
“…Why are the three of you so close?”
Helena blinked, thrown by the sudden question.
“What did you just say?”
“You, Philip, and Emelline. I’m asking… why are you three so close?”
She stared at him like he was a fool.
“What kind of question is that? We’re family… isn’t that reason enough?”
Erik’s crimson eyes turned cold, emotion draining from them like fading starlight. She was right.
Because they were family.
“Don’t ruin your life just because you resent me. Look clearly at what kind of man Eric is, Emelline.”
Eric thought of Helena—how she had burst into tears the moment she turned away after saying those words in the garden.
The three of them… were family.
It didn’t matter that they didn’t share blood, or that they lived their lives walking on the wrong side of the path.
Helena had never abused Emelline, never used her as a pawn.
Because they were family.
Eric had only realized it now—after seeing her face, the look in her eyes.
It was almost absurd that it took him this long to understand.
“I’ll… lend you the money,” he said.
Helena scowled.
“What are you talking about? I said
give
it to me.”
Ah.
Yes, no doubt about it.
They really were family.
Chapter 45